Embodiement
by The Inspector
Summary: As if moving across the country wasn't bad enough for Eren, now the girl next door says his house is haunted. If only one little lonely ghost was the worst of it.
1. Chapter 1

Embodiment

Chapter 1

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A cool breeze drifted in through the open window, stirring the pages of an open book, abandoned by its usually captive audience for the most recent serialization from _The Stand_ magazine and its most gripping story to a young boy, 'The Final Problem.' That magazine lay on his chest, rising slowly with his breathing, wrinkling a few of the pages in such a way that would cause the young man great distress once he woke and realized it.

Armin Arlert's parents were adventurers, scientists, and socialites. And since Armin was a baby, he'd been taken to the theatre, World Trade Fairs, museums, and countries abroad where his parents stayed until their interests changed like the changing of the winds. But their home had always been in New York, had been since their whirl-wind courtship and marriage, and it was to New York they returned now and then to visit family or report on some wondrous find to the Society for Social Sciences. And Armin would cling to his mother and father's hands as they visited with friends over glasses of French wine and port, listening to the kind praise of 'what a beautiful child,' and 'he looks just like you,' until his parents prompted him to say hello in the few lines of Egyptian he'd learned on their last adventure, or recited a bit of the periodic table. And he'd stay up late until he was falling asleep on the biggest overstuffed chair in the drawing room and his father would carry him off to his bed, waving off the maid that had offered to do so for him. "Our guests will not feel neglected if I am gone for a few minutes," he promised.

Those were the best years of his life.

Eren stood in front of the house, scowling. He didn't like it. Decidedly didn't like it. It was OLD. How Levi (he refused to call that man 'Dad') ever picked it was beyond his comprehension. Two stories of red-brick, Victorian architecture built who the hell knew how long ago, a LONG time ago probably, with an unfinished basement, and an attic too, he was told. Flat, rectangular hedges ran down the length of the road, uniform and unfriendly, with the occasional exception of a tree in someone's front yard. Neat. Orderly. Boring. Maybe he _could_ see why Levi bought it. Just not sure how he could _afford_ it, in such a nice looking neighborhood like this.

Nice, neat little houses all pushed closely together from a building period long expired, full of moms and dads and their one or two kids, or gross little couples just starting out with their first home, probably rode bikes on the weekend and went to fucking Earth Day clean ups, had compost piles out back, and put those stupid My Kid is an Honor Roll Student stickers on their electric cars. Because a bumper sticker doesn't fit well on a bike.

A hand came down on his shoulder, and Eren shrugged it off annoyed.

"What do you think?"

In went his earbuds, thumbing his IPod louder, just barely managing to hear Levi sigh in irritation. Whatever. Just because Eren HAD to be here didn't mean he had to be cooperative.

Not that Levi seemed at all impressed with his attitude, and just pushed past him and unlocked the door, freshly painted green for some stupid reason, leaving it open for Eren to follow, or not follow and just stay there outside looking like an idiot. After a long, rebellious five minutes, Eren decided to go inside.

Levi was taking a white cloth to a painting hung on the wall, and pointed to his feet before he got two steps in. Eren grumbled and toed out of his shoes while he looked around. Almost immediately to his right was a staircase with a banister against a wall of the most unflattering brown and yellow wallpaper Eren had ever seen, peeling in a few corners. Next to the stairs was a short hallway, with more of the same wallpaper, and three doors. All blissfully NOT green, thank you previous owner.

"Front room," Levi said, opening the first one for Eren to look in. He ignored it. Levi ignored him.

"Dining room." The next door was opened, and Eren moved a little further into the house. It all seemed to be hardwood floors, and Eren put one foot on top of the other in distaste. Levi must love it; no more carpet to steam clean every other month. EVERY month, once Eren had moved in.

"Kitchen."

Eren's curiosity finally got the best of him and he peeked into the front room first, finding it surprisingly full of old furniture, draped in white dust cloths. "Did someone move out recently?" he asked accidently. He didn't want to seem interested in this place. He'd spend half the trip here decidedly NOT talking to Levi in protest of the move, until Levi turned on his crap music. Eren had caved, just to get him to turn it off. Which he didn't, the jerk. But he'd turned it down.

"More or less," Levi held the kitchen door open impatiently. "Hurry up. Or you're going to be unpacking the car in the dark."

Eren huffed and went to go see the kitchen, glancing in the dining room quickly as he passed it, and then leaned in past the kitchen door to give it the once over. More white-draped furniture. Just like the dining room. "Everything works, right?" he checked. "Plumbing and stuff?"

"Most of the house's internal wiring and plumbing was updated about twenty years ago." Levil closed the door hard, almost catching Eren's nose. "It's all going to sound a little creaky, but it should work fine. Any other improvements I'll do myself."

Because THAT always turned out well. Eren bet that the wallpaper was high on the list of things Levi was going to remove.

"Can I go see my room?"

Levi motioned back towards the stairs. "It's the small one, Brat. Don't get any ideas."

Eren just rolled his eyes and hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time. His own room was the most important part of this stupid move. He didn't care what it looked like. It could be a closet under the stairs for all he cared. His own room, even if small, was better than how he'd had it in Foster Care. His own bed, his own space, his own door to slam in Levi's face.

He found the bathroom first. It was small as hell, but at least it was updated- mostly. He checked; the faucet sputtered and squirt for a moment, but then began to run. And after a minute or two, it even got hot. So maybe this place wasn't built back in the fucking Civil War or something.

The master bedroom was next, and Eren bet the $20 he didn't have that Levi would be tossing that ancient bed out due to thinking it not clean enough. Levi wouldn't even use hotel blankets and pillows; he'd brought his own with them the few nights on the road that they'd had to stop. He wouldn't let Eren drive the car either. Whatever. His permit was good! He just didn't have a lot of practice. Why Levi DIDN'T let him drive the long, empty stretches of highway boringness was still a mystery to him.

His new room was just down the hall from that, but unlike the other rooms and the one that Levi intended to use as an office further down the hall by the attic door, it was blissfully empty of all the previous owner's left behind junk. Empty, and just waiting for Eren's things, and the new furniture they'd picked up on their way over. NEW things. HIS things. Maybe it was just Levi's way of trying to get him to look on the bright side of their move, and NO it didn't made him any happier… but Eren WAS going to milk it for as much as he could. Especially if Levi was feeling generous towards his entertainment. His laptop was a hand-me-down piece of shit that some kind person had donated, after the fire. It was still running Windows Millennium for Christ's sake!

Bereft of any furniture, Eren wandered over to the window and took a seat on the sill, pushing his feet up against the side. Somewhere downstairs, Levi was probably tearing all the dust cloths over the old as dirt furniture, and making a list of what he needed and what was going to be tossed, and what kind of chores he could bully Eren into under the guise of helping out.

Eren leaned his head against the cool glass and sighed. Distantly he wondered, if he hated it enough, maybe Levi would take them back home. No matter that Levi's apartment was already rented by someone else, and Eren had slept on the couch for four months while school finished for the year, and that Levi's new job was HERE with much better hours that would mean Eren wasn't feeding himself microwaved pizza bites for dinner when Levi worked the night shift. Levi kept telling him…. Things would be better here. But Eren didn't believe him. He'd made promises he couldn't keep before.

There was a flash of movement from outside, and Eren sat up sharply, staring through the dirty glass. In the house next door, built so close that the windows would almost touch if they were both opened, a girl stared back at him with a almond shaped eyes and a somber expression.

Eren waved, offering her a little smile.

The girl blinked at him a few times, and then turned and left the window. Eren scowled, feeling like he'd done something wrong unintentionally. Were all East Coast people so unfriendly?

"Eren!"

Oh, from that tone? Clearly Levi had been calling him for awhile. "What?" Eren hollered back, and dragged himself to his feet to wander out into the hall.

"We're going to clean before we bring anything in," Levi announced, his arms crossed over his chest at the bottom of the stairs. "Get down here. Now."

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Eren speared a piece of broccoli beef with his chopstick, scowling at it like it was the source of all his problems. "So you never told me how you got this place. How can you afford it?" He and Levi were celebrating their first night in the new house over a nutritiously dubious dinner of take-out Chinese on the floor of the dining room. On the floor, because Levi hadn't finished cleaning the table and chairs yet. He had apparently decided to KEEP them, but he wasn't comfortable with sitting on them yet. The rug thrown down over the hardwood floor, however, was brand new from the furniture store they had stopped at this morning. And therefore, acceptable. The bedrooms had been their first priority to unpack, followed by getting the TV hooked up in the living room.

"A friend of mine suggested a realtor, when he heard I was moving here," Levi wiped his hands on one of the paper napkins stacked up on his right side. "Apparently this place has had a difficult time selling for awhile. Last owner intended to use it as a summer home, but then didn't occupy it in the summers. It failed to rent well, and with the housing crash, we simply arrived at the right time."

"Bullshit." Eren didn't believe it and Levi glanced at him for a moment before picking his fork up again, no other answers forthcoming. "Who did you have to kill?"

"Can't you ever accept that things can work out, at times?"

"No."

"Can't you trust anyone to not fuck you over?"

Because life had proved so eager to give him a break recently. "There's a girl next door," Eren changed the topic. It worked in distracting Levi, but it wasn't necessarily a topic Eren wanted to talk about.

"There are probably a lot of children in this neighborhood," Levi agreed with that maddening tone of his. That, I'm SO much older than you and I'M the adult here, so of COURSE I know what's best for you- tone. Eren hated that tone. It made him want to hit things. "Some you'll probably go to school with in a few months. Don't make that face, it'll stick that way."

"You're not even looking!" Eren protested, stealing a prawn from Levi's plate vindictively.

"It'll still stick that way." Levi glanced at Eren, and then back at his plate. "You could use some friends though, Eren. You didn't make any at our last place."

"YOUR place," Eren grumbled, chewing on his chopstick so hard he started leaving teeth marks in the wood. "I had plenty of friends before that. We could have moved there after your lease was up."

Levi put his fork down, sitting up straight. "Eren," he said slowly, "We've talked about this. Your grief counselor said that moving back to your old neighborhood would be a detriment to you. You can make a new start here."

"You mean forget." Eren spat the words out like poison, but Levi didn't flinch.

"If needs be," he agreed, infuriatingly calm as he resumed eating his dinner. Like it was over, case closed, no more debate. Because none of this bothered him. Nothing that EREN needed mattered. Because HE was the legal guardian and HE got to make all the decisions and who the hell cared what Eren thought, or wanted, or needed.

Eren pushed his plate away. "I'm done," he announced, climbing to his feet. "I'm going to my room." Levi didn't move, just calmly continued to eat like Eren hadn't even fucking moved. So he grabbed his plate to take with him.

"If you don't eat with the family, you don't eat at all," Levi spoke up.

"We're not a family!" The plate in Eren's hand shook, almost sending one of his cheap chopsticks clattering to the floor. "You're not my dad! Don't pretend like you are!" Levi didn't stop him this time as Eren stormed out of the dining room and ran up the stairs to his bedroom, tossing his plate on his brand new dresser and ingoing it there. He threw himself onto his bed, and hugged his pillow tight under his chest, trying to breathe slowly. He didn't cry; he hadn't cried since the fire. But he did rage. He'd punched a hole in Levi's wall, the first day he'd moved in. Which was the reason, Levi reminded him constantly, that he wasn't getting his security deposit back and why he was NOT getting Eren a new laptop as long as his currently worked, no matter how much Eren hated it, or it sounded like a dying elephant, and was chunky and heavy as hell.

But this was HIS room now. And his stuff. And if he got angry in here, he'd only be destroying his own stuff. And he didn't have a lot of it. So he tried to breathe.

Footsteps outside his room.

Eren lay still, wondering if Levi's ocd had finally made him come up and retrieve Eren's plate that yeah, he wasn't going to eat, god damn you Levi, so that it didn't go gross and rot in Eren's room.

The footsteps went back and forth by the door three times, paused, and then faded away. 'I win this one,' Eren thought with a hollow smile. A worthless victory.

'Three more years,' he reminded himself, rolling over and pulling a blanket over his head. 'Three more years, and I'm eighteen, and he's no longer responsible for me. I can go wherever I want. And no one can stop me.'

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When Eren got up in the morning, the house was silent in a still and eerie kind of way that made him hesitant to pad down the hall, past Levi's open door, and halfway down the stairs, leaning over the banister to see if Levi was around. "Levi?" he called. The stairs were freezing. Eren hurried back to his room for a pair of socks, and then started over, heading down the stairs and looking into the living room first, and then the dining room. "Levi?" he tried calling again.

He opened the front door and stepped out, wiping his hand across his forehead. Jesus Christ it was hot out already. Muggy. And it was only June! It was a lot nicer inside, where everything was still cool.

"Your house is haunted."

Eren turned sharply and saw… the girl. The girl from the other day in the window. She was standing on the other side of the hedge that separated their houses. "What?" he asked, brain still half asleep and still trying to work out the problem of where Levi had gone to fully process what she had said. Had he even heard her right?

The girl didn't seem impressed by him, one way or the other. "Its haunted," she repeated slowly, like he was dumb. "You were wondering why it was so cheap, right? It's because it's haunted."

Eren scowled. How'd SHE know that he'd been wondering about how Levi had been able to afford this place on his salary? Because they didn't look like the usual kind of people that moved into these kinds of houses? Because they didn't fit the perfect little mold of people who lived in perfect little houses with perfect little lives? "That's stupid. There's no such thing as ghosts." But if he expected her to be insulted, or yell back at him and insist, she certainly disappointed him, and just kept looking at him with those dark eyes.

"Just thought you ought to know," she said, leaning her head back to look at Eren's house. "One of them is watching you now. He's in the window."

Eren's head snapped back towards the house, scanning the windows he could see from where they stood… front window, one from the bedroom that faced the street, and…. A curtain in the attic window was moving, swaying lightly like someone had dropped it in a hurry. Or, you know, a breeze had come through the roof that was PROBABLY in need of some kind of repair and nudged the old, thin cloth. SHE had probably noticed, and said that just to get him to turn around! Eren felt his face grow warm and he scowled at the girl. "Stop teasing me! Its an attic. They're old, and drafty!"

"Its _haunted_," she insisted.

"Well, how do you know?" Eren asked.

"I can see them," the girl said with a small shrug of her shoulders. "Ever since my parents died. I see them."

Eren paused, and looked her over. She seemed about his age, maybe a little older. Some kind of Asian; he didn't know enough people from China or Korea or whatever to tell the difference between any of them. Her eyes seemed sad though. She'd lost her parents too. Maybe she was alone too; saddled with a guardian who didn't really want her but had taken her anyway out of some kind of sense of responsibility. Lost. Damaged. Like him. "I'm Eren," he finally offered, and smiled at her again, like he'd done the other day. "What's your name?"

And her eyes widened a little in surprise, like no one had asked her that before. "Mikasa," she said at last. "Its nice to meet you, Eren." Success! There was even a small curl of a smile on her pale lips as she looked him up and down. "Are you outside in your pajamas?"

Oh.

Eren looked down at himself, and folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah? So?"

And she laughed! A small, soft sound, her eyes closing slightly at the pleasure of it. "You should go back inside, or at LEAST change," Mikasa admonished. "You'll catch your death of cold."

"Cold?" Eren repeated, his eyes widening. COLD? "Its like 70 degrees out! It's not cold!"

"I'm always cold," Mikasa said softly, looking back at her house.

Eren stared at her for a moment and then held up his hands. "Wait one minute, okay?" He dashed back into the house, loving how it became blissfully cooler the instant he crossed the threshold, and dashed up the stairs to his room. There was a big box he'd shoved into the closet without bothering to hang up or put away, painstakingly labeled by Levi as 'Eren, Winter Clothes'. He tore open the top and began digging, tossing out long-sleeved shirts and two pairs of ugly, fuzzy mittens before holding his prize up triumphantly. He hurried back down the stairs, skidding on the hardwood floor in the hallway, and jumped down the front step, back to where Mikasa was waiting for him.

"Here!" he said, slightly out of breath as he wound a red scarf around her neck. "It was my father's," he added softly, looking at the way the red color stood out against her pale skin. "It's just about the only thing I have of his. He was a Doctor, you know. And he left it at the office. But you can have it now. It'll keep you warm."

Mikasa touched the fabric and closed her eyes. "Warm," she agreed softly. She seemed to sink into the warmth of the fabric for a moment before, abruptly, she opened her eyes again. "Your guardian left this morning." She paused and leaned her head to the side, looking a little silly with Eren's scarf wrapped partially around her face. "That is why you came outside so suddenly, isn't it?"

Eren laughed and scratched his head. "Do you have anything better to do than watch my house all day, Mikasa?" He was unable to see her expression through the scarf, but her eyes looked amused as she shrugged.

"I gotta go," inside. Real clothes. "But I'll see you later, okay?"

"Alright, Eren," Mikasa allowed, and pulled the scarf down a little so that she could speak more clearly. "Be careful."

Eren gave her a smile and hurried back inside, sneaking a look back at Mikasa through the window. But she wasn't looking at him anymore. Her head was tilted back, gazing at the attic window.

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And that's chapter 1! Also posted on Ao3 and my tumblr: putyourright-armin


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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Things changed, when Armin turned ten. Accustomed to traveling with his parents, to never living in the same place long, they'd abruptly decided after his tenth birthday, that he needed proper schooling. He'd learned to read on his mother's lap, sounding out words for her, and pointing to his letters and numbers in quick succession when prompted, babbling back to her in French, and counting in Latin and Greek. But he wasn't a baby anymore, and so they decided he needed more structure to his life. Friends his own age- not the ancient monk who said not a word but allowed Armin to sit beside him and read, or the camel that had carried their belongings for three months, or the woman who lived next door to them in France who Armin always greeted with a flower.

Their little house in New York, their 'base' and home, became more permanent. For Armin, anyway. His mother and father still frequently left, bringing him home curiosities and fragrant herbs to touch and smell, wonderful stories of the things they'd seen and done that someday, he'd join them on again. Or go on his own adventures. Until then, his grandfather, newly a widower, moved into the house to provide Armin with an adult guardian while his parents were away and run the tiny household.

It took a little getting accustomed to, but Armin loved his grandfather. He used to be a Colonel in the US Army, and had fought in the war against the Mexicans. He'd know President Grant, before he was the President, and he had the most amazing stories to tell about his time in Texas, and Mexico, and California. Armin would fall asleep next to him while his grandfather read to him from books held in loving, weathered hands. And while he missed his parents, and the way things used to be, life wasn't bad.

Until things were.

Something got let in. It came in with the summer epidemics, the hot city ripe with disease as the heat descended. Everything open, vulnerable, and weak.

Armin could remember the first day something felt wrong. He'd woken from a nasty nightmare, his body damp with fever and cold with sweat, his heart in his throat. Weakly, he'd called for his maid. Coughed twice while he tried to catch his breath, and called for her again.

After what felt like far too long, his door opened, and he saw her face, lit by the soft candle she carried.

"What's the matter, Little Sir?" she asked, her voice soft and tired, muffled by the white cloth around her mouth and nose and heavy with her accent this late at night. Her hair was caught up in a messy braid, but to Armin she looked like an angel as she set the candle on his bed side and sat beside him. "Why you're shaking like a leaf!"

"I had a bad dream," Armin whimpered, clutching the apron thrown on over her night dress. "There was a monster, at the foot of my bed. It was watching me. I told it to go away, but it wouldn't! He-he got mad, he tried to smother me!"

And she pulled him gently against her, rocking him with quiet, hushing sounds. "Its was just a dream," she promised. "Just a dream. You must focus on getting well."

But Armin couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He did not sleep again that night.

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Eren didn't tell Levi about what Mikasa had told him, about the house being haunted and all. He didn't believe it himself, and he wasn't going to give the man anything to make fun of him about. But, he did notice, every night, without fail, he heard the footsteps outside his door. Just walking back and forth, pacing three times, and then disappearing.

"Do you have insomnia or something?" Eren complained one morning while he ate the toast he burned, since he wouldn't let Levi do it for him. "Trouble adjusting to the time zone? I hear you walking around every night."

"I check the doors and windows every night after you go to bed, yes," Levi admitted, and Eren remembered the ritual from the apartment. Lock the front door, back door, check all the windows, put down all the blinds, check the front door again. But that's not what he meant.

"I mean the walking back and forth by my room," Eren clarified. "It's kind of creepy of you, Old Man."

But Levi shook his head, not even rising to the name calling bait. "I don't do that, Eren. You must be hearing the house settling. Do you want some butter for your charcoal?"

Eren let it drop, for the moment anyway, but he knew he wasn't hearing creaky boards. Those were footsteps.

"When you say haunted," Eren handed Mikasa a wedge from his orange across the shrub, "What do you mean by that? Like… ghost busters? Casper the friendly ghost?"

"Why are you so interested?" Mikasa asked, taking the offered fruit with her cold, pale fingers. "You don't believe in ghosts."

"No," Eren agreed with a huff, "I don't." He didn't! "But I've been hearing something. Ever since I got here. Footsteps." He turned a looked back towards his house. At the attic that had first interested Mikasa. The curtain was still today.

"If you're hearing footsteps, you're fine," Mikasa held out her hand for another slice of orange, which Eren gladly gave her, fumbling a little to rid it of the peel. "He's just on patrol. It's what he does."

He? Patrol? None of it made any sense to Eren. "How do you know this? Are you just making things up, Mikasa?" Was she making fun of him? Eren scowled, his cheeks flushing at the thought of her running back to her house every time they'd spoken- full of barely concealed giggles until the door closed where she could laugh hysterically at how DUMB the neighbor kid was. "Because I swear, if you're just doing this for shits and-"

"You've got three in there," she said, raising her voice above his to be heard over the start of his tirade. "That one is the guardian spirit. That's what he does. You'll see or hear little else from him."

Eren fell silent, staring at her. Three? How did she get the number three? He really didn't believe her. Really. But her facts were specific, and she was SO sure of herself. Not even in that kind of frantic 'please believe me' kind of sure, but that bored kind of sure, like she didn't have to work t convince anyone, because it was true so there was no point in arguing. Had a previous neighbor who used to live in Eren's house tell her about… stuff? "What do you mean? The others do… other stuff?"

Mikasa pointed to the attic, and Eren looked up slowly, reluctant, his heart beating fast, half expecting to see a bloody face at the window. But it was just the same old curtain, hanging limply across the glass. Swaying lightly again God Damnit! "They don't come down anymore. I don't know why. Don't care. Except, if you're hearing footsteps, the guardian… well, there must be a reason you're hearing him and not the others."

Eren opened his mouth to ask another question, when Levi's car pulled up into the driveway. Eren shoved the rest of the orange into Mikasa's hands with a quick 'Thanks!' and ran to meet the car, sucking on his last piece of the orange. "Levi!" he greeted the other man as he struggled to get out of the car without hitting Eren with the car door. Eren didn't care and crowded into his space as soon as the door opened. "Levi! Can we go clean the attic today? Can we?" If Mikasa's other ghosts hadn't left the attic, there must be a reason! Maybe they just needed to go up there and find out why! Or, you know, prove they didn't exist once and for all.

Levi looked him up and down slowly, surely, Eren guessed, wondering if he'd gone crazy or had heat-stroke or it was just plain his lucky day, and then nodded. "Let me change, and then yes. We'll go clean the attic."

Eren followed Levi inside, catching the suit jacket thrown his way to hang up on the hallway hook, and glanced over his shoulder. But Mikasa had already gone.

It took Levi entirely too long to change out of his work clothes for Eren's taste, and then even LONGER to gather up all the cleaning supplies they'd need. They'd lost almost a good HOUR by the time Levi was 'ready' to tackle cleaning the attic. Eren should have just gone up there himself! Forget about the cleaning part.

"So," Eren followed Levi obediently towards the door at the far end of the hall upstairs, "Why exactly are you so excited about this, Eren. I'm not stupid enough to think you WANT to clean." They keys for the attic door, two heavy brass skeleton keys, were already in the lock, hanging there like Levi had intended to go up, and had been distracted in the process.

"I read online," Eren watched as the key turned in the lock, "That some people put their most prized possessions in attics. If they left behind so much furniture, maybe they left treasure behind in the attic. We could be sitting on a fortune! The laptop of my dreams could be waiting for me to sell the junk these people kept!"

Levi snorted. "And skeletons in the cellar." The door opened and a cold gust started Eren back a few steps, earning a roll of his eyes from Levi. "It's an attic, Brat. They are drafty. Come on, I'm not going to waste all evening waiting for you."

What!? Because they hadn't just wasted an HOUR waiting for Levi! Asshole.

The stairs up towards the attic creaked, and were cold under Eren's socked feet. He knew Levi had a no shoes in the house rule but MAN! This would be so much more comfortable if there were a pair of shoes between him and the floorboards. And he wasn't about to get a pair of those ugly grandpa slippers that Levi wore that he kept _suggesting_ Eren get so that his feet wouldn't be cold. They were so uncool.

The attic, at first glance, wasn't very impressive. The space was small, and slanted with the roof. Levi was fine, but Eren had to watch his head in the furthest corners. And it was crowded. In addition to more white-draped furniture, there were tons of cardboard boxes shoved up in the small space from various owners. Boxes with Christmas lights spilling out over the top, old busted chairs, and wrapped paintings that had previously hung in the halls.

"What a mess," Levi grunted, and rolled up his sleeves. Eren knew he was calculating how many spiders he'd be finding, and killing with an odd gleeful fury, like how DARE spiders invade his home. Eren wasn't fooled; suggesting that they go clean the attic had probably made Levi's week. And, until it was finished to Levi's standards, they'd be doing this every evening after Levi got home. But it would be worth it to prove to Mikasa that his house was NOT haunted and she just… had an active imagination. That's what his mom would have called it.

"Put anything you find that you want off to the side," Levi said, kicking over one of the broken chairs. "Anything else, we're tossing."

Eren nodded and went directly over to the window, pulling the curtain aside. They were so old that they tore in his hands, crumbly, threadbare cloth with a faded rose pattern. There was no evidence that anyone had been up here, looking through the window. There was a solid layer of dust on the sill. Breathing a sigh of relief, Eren went for the windex and the paper towels. Mikasa was just teasing him. Trying to scare him. And it had almost worked too!

Next the window was the first box that Eren began digging through. It was full of books. Old books. Like the type you keep in the Special collection of your own library, if you were snooty to have a 'library.' "Do you want to keep these?" Eren called to Levi. "They look really old."

Levi glanced over from his own personal attack on the attic, and shook his head. "Get rid of them."

Eren shivered, suddenly cold as he looked over the books, finally pulling one out. They were well loved, he could tell that. Someone had spent hours poring over them, reading them again and again, the pages slightly smudged. Most of them were works of fiction though. Those 'classics' that they forced you to read in school. Probably some first edition stuff in here too. Could be worth something, to someone on ebay. There was one in particular that seemed to call to him. Beautifully bound, once upon a time, its dark blue cover dusty and its gold lettering on the side faded so that the title was barely legible. "I'm keeping this one," Eren heard himself saying, and set it gently aside before tackling the next box. It was a lot more rewarding in the instant gratification kind of way.

"Cool!" A spyglass, a pair of small spectacles, a faded globe, rolls of maps and a box of ancient cigars. "Whose stuff is all this?"

"Who knows," Levi was struggling with a particularly heavy trunk. "Maybe the first owners. This place was built back in the late 1800s, if I remember correctly."

Eren wasn't listening. He was looking instead at the ornate looking sword that was leaning against the wall behind Levi slowly start falling towards him. "Levi!" Eren yelped, dashing forward, and stopping short in horror as the sword sank deep into the wood of the chest where Levi's head had been, barely missing him when he'd turned his head to look at Eren.

Levi glanced at it dispassionately, like he was unimpressed that an antique assisted by gravity had tried to kill him, and walked slowly towards Eren. "Damn attics are always a death trap with the amount of junk people pile in them." He put his hands on Eren's shoulders, making him start violently. "Eren. Are you okay?"

Eren nodded and pulled away, feeling stupid and sick and clammy. It was an old, rusty sword! Probably from the fucking Civil War of something! It couldn't be that sharp anymore. Levi would have been fine if it had hit him. Not like the chest. The chest was old…. Right? Probably already starting to crumble away. But it didn't really help. "Can we be done for today?" Thankfully, Levi didn't argue. He just nodded, and allowed Eren to grab the book he'd set aside and run down the stairs, where he waited fitfully for him at the bottom. "Lock it." When it didn't look like Levi was going to comply, Eren whined and hugged the book closer to his chest. He was going to pay for it later in teasing, he just knew it, but right now, he didn't care. "Please, Levi. Just do it. Call is post traumatic stress, I don't care, just please lock it."

After giving him an odd, unreadable expression, Levi finally turned and locked the attic door, and Eren let out the breath he'd been holding.

"It was just an accident, Eren," Levi handed him one of the two attic keys, and Eren shoved it in his pocket. "Sometimes, accidents happen."

Eren didn't reply, just kept staring at the floor between them. Accidents, yes. But it wasn't all accidents. Sometimes it was arson, and murder. Sometimes accidently didn't happen, they were made, and everyone just CALLS it an accident because believing its anything else is too painful. Lev finally signed and pat him once of the shoulder. "I'm going to change," again, because after being in the attic, there was no way Lev wasn't going to change into something cleaner, "And start dinner. Half an hour, okay? I want you to set the table."

He walked away, leaving Eren there in front of the attic door with just a book, and brass key, and an awful, sinking feeling.

.

Eren began noticing things a few days later. Things out of place from where he left them. At first, he thought it was Levi, moving things around to his liking in the new house, until the other man complained that if EREN was going to switch all the silverware in the drawer, could he at least leave the knives in the left-most section. He didn't care about the forks and spoons but the knives were bothering him.

Like Eren gave a shit about something like that enough to move them! Not even enough to mess with Levi's head.

And then, his favorite pair of jeans went missing for three whole days… vanished from his bedroom floor where he liked to keep all his clean clothes, and no amount of accusing Levi of coming in to 'tidy up' like he promised he wouldn't once Eren had his own room that he could do whatever he wanted with, made them reappear. Not until Eren was digging through his dresser to find a clean undershirt did he find them again. And then they were just THERE. Folded neatly and put away.

There were also flashes of movement, just out of the eye's notice. Like the edge of a skirt, or a shadow on the wall left by no one. Things caught just on the peripheral, or through a mirror, that made Eren take a quick second glance, only to see nothing.

And, finally, there was the book Eren took to his room from the attic. It was probably the thing that bothered him the most. He'd tossed it on his nightstand carelessly, still trying to figure out why he brought it down, only to find it open the next morning. It was a little hard to believe that the wind did that to the heavy cover, but sure, he could be made to believe that was EXACTLY what happened, no questions asked. Except, the pages kept changing every time he checked it. First it was open to page 10, then page 32, then 58, and 102.

He and Levi got into a fight. A bad one. They hadn't had one of those since before the move. It started over something stupid again, like it always did, until Eren was yelling and Levi was cold and unmoving and just didn't fucking _understand_, and Eren grabbed his wallet and jacket and stormed out of the house, threatening to run away and never come back and then wouldn't Levi feel like shit then! Lost the kid he'd worked so hard to save. God damn Saint Levi!

And because it was summer and it was warm out, as he ran down the street, Eren cultivated fantasies about sleeping outside under bridges, and in Greyhound stations, making his way back HOME. He was young, but he was strong too! And smart! He could do odd jobs here and there, and earn the money to get back. A bus ticket didn't cost too much. Not that Levi wouldn't be looking for him, wouldn't send his picture to every police station from here to home, knowing too well exactly where he was headed. But it could be done! It could!

And he'd get back home and… and he'd do something. He still had friends from school. He could sleep on their couches for awhile. Like the two weeks before Foster Care came for him, when he wasn't in the hospital. And they wouldn't contact Levi and let him know because… because…

With a heavy heart, Eren finally turned himself back around, and headed back. He'd never make it. Oh sure, he'd probably get really close. But, with the adoption, he'd been legally shackled to Levi as his ward and responsibility. For three more years.

The house was dark when Eren got back, but the door was unlocked. He wondered how much it drove Levi crazy to leave it open for him, and that at least was a small and bitter victory.

He got himself a glass of water from the kitchen and slowly began making his way towards his bed room, just wanting to sleep this awful day off, only to pause suddenly and abruptly halfway up the stairs. He heard footsteps. But they weren't coming from upstairs, further ahead, like usual. They were downstairs, moving slowly back and forth in the living room, behind the closed door. Once. Twice. Three times.

Eren watched in horror from the stairs, gripping the banister, as the door knob shook for a moment, and then slowly began to turn.

He bolted up the stairs, almost tripping as he tried to get his feet under him. There was someone in his house. There was someone in his house! It was all his fault! Levi had to leave the door open for him! There was someone in his house!

"Levi!" Eren threw open the door to the Master bedroom and groped about for the light. "Levi!" Where was he!? The bed was still made and untouched.

Panicking, Eren left and ran to his room, threw open the door, and screamed, very much startling the silvery-blue figure that stood over the book on the nightstand, hand still raised over the open page.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, Eren and the apparition in his room. Eren felt like he was going to throw up. Or faint. Or just die altogether. A small whimper came out of his throat, startling the… ghost into action. It brought its hand down, and the suspended page of the book fell back down too. Eren realized, with a sick jolt, that this THING had been in his room every night since he brought the book down. Reading! God Damn! It was almost funny, if it weren't so damn terrifying.

There was a thundering sound in the hall, and Eren's head whipped around to the door and then back only to find that the ghost had vanished. His door was thrown open a second later, Levi standing there, service handgun in hand. "What happened? Eren. Are you okay?" It was that same voice he'd used- from that night- steady and tight like steel. Eren just stared at him in shock, lips moving slowly. Seeing no danger, Levi came closer, lowering his weapon, and putting his hand on his shoulder. "Eren?" he said, just a little softer.

"I… thought I saw something," Eren choked out. The ghost was gone… hell the book was even closed now. Like he'd imagined it all. "I thought I heard someone downstairs."

Levi looked exasperated, flipped the safety on his gun, and tucked it into the back of his pants. "That was me, Eren. Do you really think I'd leave the front door unlocked and just go to sleep? I heard you come in."

Eren shook his head frantically. No, the footsteps. They were just like the other ones. The ones he heard outside his door. It didn't sound like Levi and his stupid slippers. It was someone wearing shoes in their house! Someone- some-THING was-!

Startled, Eren realized that Levi had pulled him close under his arm, almost like a hug. Eren buried his head against his chest, breathing in deeply, shaking.

"Do you want me to keep watch tonight?"

And that made Eren feel like the biggest baby of all. This man he just told, not three hours ago, to go jump off a cliff and die was offering to stay up, and stand guard like some kind of watch dog.

He shook his head and inched away from Levi's arm, gripping his arm to stop shaking. "I'm okay now," he lied. "I was just… surprised."

Levi didn't look like he believe him, but he let him go, let him have his stupid teenage pride. He just nodded and turned. "Get some sleep, you noisy brat. I'm down the hall if you change your mind."

Eren nodded and waited until Levi had closed the door to approach the book. Was it all in his head? Were Mikasa's stories about ghosts really getting to him so bad that he thought he saw one? He picked up the book defiantly. Treasure Island. He didn't even want this thing! He hadn't read it since he brought it down. He flipped it open to the inside cover, and stopped, looking at the elegant, looking handwriting there.

This book belongs to Armin, 1883

.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Armin

.

For all the little things he collected, little bits of history, pretty leaves caught in the changing of seasons, old birds' nests, and books; Armin liked things neat and orderly. He was never looking for things like other children his age, searching the chests of their belongings for a certain object, or asking their maids for the location of their belongings, because Armin had been raised to put his own things away. There was no room for a child's maid in a caravan, or in the tiny villa in France overlooking a 200 year old winery. There was a simple and logical method to his organization, and he always knew when the maid had moved something in her cleaning, because it was changed JUST enough from his normal routine that he'd notice.

With two house servants and his grandfather in the house, it was normal for things to be moved about a little bit. Not much, just a little. Things turned to face different directions from being dusted, restacked, straightened, and wiped down. Armin liked to go back through, after a room was cleaned, and fine tune it to his happiness. His favorite piece to take care of was the Curiosity Cabinet in the parlor, and the China doll his Mother had received as a gift from before Armin was born. She was tiny, with dark painted hair and eyes, a gentle expression lovingly painted on her little face. Her dress was blue silk, with miniature white silk roses along the neckline. "I used to have a dress just like this, once," his Mother had told him as she turned the doll in her miniature chair to face the room. "My waist was so tiny; your father could just about fit his hands around it." And she laughed, putting her hands on her hips. "Well, I traded in corsets for a life of adventure, but sometimes, I do like to remember how pretty I was as a girl."

"You're pretty now, mama," Armin had insisted, waving chubby fingers in her direction until she'd picked him up with a laugh, pressing their noses together to make him giggle.

"Just like your father."

After they started leaving him in New York, Armin took full responsibility for the Curiosity Cabinet. He dusted them himself, and rearranged which things were towards the front. He changed the displays, and took care of any minor mending or care his family's memories needed. It was HIS job, and he was pleased to do it.

Which was why he was so distressed when things in the Curiosity Cabinet began missing, or ending up in odd places. The Indian perfume his mother wore to fancy events got knocked over by nothing and spilled to almost empty. The wooden pocket watch his father bought in Germany went missing for three days before suddenly reappearing exactly back where it belonged. The old scroll from Greece ended up on top of one of the bookcases where it was difficult for him to reach and he almost fell in his attempts to climb the shelf and retrieve. Neither servant or his grandfather took claim to the actions, and in frustration Armin tried to simply ignore the odd instances, and gently return each piece to where it belonged when he found them.

The evening he found the ink block wet and in risk of smudging onto the China Doll's dress, he hurried to the kitchen for soap and a towel, where he found the maid in the kitchen, preparing dinner. She saw him trying to sneak a piece of bread from the counter along with his cleaning supplies, and laughed, shoeing him out the door. "You will spoil your dinner," she warned him, and turned around.

It was the scream that brought Armin right back into the room. He and the maid hadn't been out of the kitchen more than a minute. Barely had turned their back on the room. But all the cupboards and drawers were flung open, and the contents within thrown on the floor.  
.

It took a few days to calm down. Eren felt jumpy, and turned violently at every little sound. So much that Levi threatened to revoke his caffeine privileges if he didn't calm the fuck down. Well, maybe Eren WAS drinking more Red Bull than was strictly necessary, but he didn't want to fall asleep! He still heard those footsteps at night, only now he realized that they weren't just in front of his room. When he accidently fell asleep in the living room in front of the television, he heard them then too, thrown violently awake at the first hard step. The guardian, Mikasa had said. He was patrolling.

The book on the nightstand had been left untouched, still closed like the first day Eren had tossed it there. That ghost hadn't come back. Not even after he and Levi had gone back up to the attic over the weekend and taken a lot of stuff down to the trash. Eren had ripped the cover off one of the other books in the trunk, just to see if anything would happen.

Nothing did.

Then he began to get mad. How dare something come into HIS home and torment him. And ONLY him! Why not give Levi a hard time? THAT guy deserved it! What had Eren done to be haunted by restless walkers and, and a bookworm!

Finally, he decided to do something about it. He'd never seen the guardian, but the other one didn't look so tough. He'd been small… smaller than Eren. And, armed with a vial of holy water and a cross he'd stolen from the Catholic Church a few blocks away, Eren prepared. He left that book that had drawn the ghost open to the page he'd seen it at last, leaving it perfectly turned towards the door so that Mr. Casper could just walk right on in and have access to it. And under his pillow, Eren kept his weapons at the ready.

It took three nights.

The first two, Eren waited patiently, his eyes lightly closed, his breathing as even as he could make it, waiting for the ghost to make an appearance. And though he heard the usual footsteps outside his door, there was no sign of the other ghost.

On the third night though, overwhelmed with fatigue and exhaustion, he'd fallen asleep.

He fell asleep, his hand under his pillow, curled around the vial of holy water, just for a moment. Just enough to rest his eyes, really. A few hours later though, he felt it in the drop in temperature in his room and woke sharply. He kept his eyes closed as he strained to hear anything and thought he could hear the whisper-soft shuffle of paper- pages being turned. His heart began to race.

This was it.

His eye slit open just a crack to assess his attack. Same ghost as before. It was small, male, and young, all slivery-blue, mostly transparent, and completely absorbed in whatever was on the book's page. His hands were folded up under his chin with an odd eagerness, clothes like something out of one of those old-timey photo booths at the fair.

Eren grabbed for the holy water, only to realize that under his pillow was wet! The stopper had come lose while he slept and had leaked everywhere.

He must have made some sound of distress because the ghost turned abruptly, staring at him with eerie white eyes. Then, it frowned.

"You tore the cover off Great Expectations!" it scolded, its voice odd, like an echo though water. "What a shameful way to treat a book!"

Eren just gaped at him. It. Him? Whatever. It was a GHOST. "Are you lecturing me on the proper handling of books?"

"And other people's things," the ghost agreed, moving a little further away from Eren's bed. "Please don't scream again. Its most unpleasant."

Unpleasant? "You know what's unpleasant?" Eren demanded, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of his bed. "Listening to someone walking around your house all night. Waking up every morning to see that a book has been read by no one. Finding things rearranged! THAT'S unpleasant!"

"Please don't shout!" the ghost whispered fervently. "You'll wake your father."

"He's not my father," Eren scowled, watching as the ghost moved along the wall, and back again, and finally stopping directly in front of Eren, looking, actually, rather delighted. "What?" he asked suspiciously.

"Your eyes followed me the whole time!" the ghost exclaimed excitedly. "You must have a pretty clear vision of me. Most people barely know I'm around. Or can only see vague mist."

"What are you talking about?" Mist? "I can see you just fine. I mean, you're not exactly in color, but I don't know about any mist."

"Fascinating," the ghost repeated and gingerly took a seat on Eren's bed. Weightless, he didn't even make the mattress dip, or disturb the wrinkle of the blankets. "And you're not scared of me?"

Well, Eren wouldn't exactly say that, but his pride was too strong to say so, so he jut his chin out defiantly. "Who could be afraid of a tiny little guy like you?"

The ghost laughed, a sound like the wind through the trees. "Oh, you really CAN see me, can't you? I'm usually the one no one ever sees. Even when I try." He shook his head once and smiled. "My name is Armin."

"Armin," Eren repeated, remembering the name on the inside cover of the book. And, more importantly, the date. That was over one hundred years ago, and this guy certainly wasn't over eighteen. Even if he was BORN in 1883… he'd only died as late as 1901! "Armin, you know you're dead, right?" Was it a bad thing to tell ghosts they were dead?

Armin's expression fell, and Eren immediately felt bad. "Hey, I didn't mean it as an insult," Eren insisted quickly, "Its just… you're very talkative, for a ghost. Very…. Coherent." Yeah, that was the word. Interacting and talking with him in full, normal conversation.

"Yes, Eren," Armin sighed, running a ghostly hand through his hair, "I know. And yes, I know your name is Eren. I've heard your guardian calling it enough."

"You watch me?"

Armin smiled a little. "You're interesting to watch."

Eren didn't quite know how to take that. "So you're not going away?" Armin hesitated, and then shook his head.

"You're the first person who's been able to see me, since I died Eren. I'll leave you alone, if you want that, but I can't make you unsee me. I AM sorry for intruding on your privacy. It is just…" he nodded towards the open book. "Treasure Island is my favorite. And it has been so long since I've read it. I could not resist."

Inspite of himself, Eren was rather fascinated. Here was someone who had clearly DIED, and yet, if not for the see-through, colorlessness, Eren would have guessed that he was talking to a normal person. "Oh yeah?" he said unhelpfully. "You remember a lot from… before?" Were you supposed to be sensitive towards a person's past life? Shit, sensitivity was probably one of the things he was most lacking in!

"Some things," Armin allowed, "Trivial things. I know that Treasure Island is my favorite book, and it was a Christmas present when I was a child. I know I'm dead, and that I should not like to be. But then, who would prefer such a sorry state." He smiled, comedy in the irony. "I know that I have not come downstairs in a long while, but how long is unknown. Time is relative," he said with a deep sigh, "And I know you must be from an age I know nothing of, with inventions and ideas I can hardly understand, but I cannot bring myself to care. I saw you when you moved in, and I thought… perhaps he is as lonely as I. I never dared hope that you would be able to see me."

Armin fell silent, waiting with an expectant look on his face. Eren looked back and forth, from his bed to the ceiling, to the dead boy sitting so primly on his mussed comforter. "You sure talk a lot!" Eren finally exclaimed. Okay, maybe not the BEST thing to say. Armin looked pretty stricken now. But Eren didn't have time to focus on that. He was thinking.

Okay, so there was very possibly a ghost living in his house. One, more than one, but only one that he'd seen. And that one was a not-so-very-threatening boy that he probably would have made fun of if they'd gone to school together. Too small, too weak, too pretty for a boy. He would have been bully mincemeat. But, he'd gotten worse than name calling and being stuffed into lockers, hadn't he? He'd died. He'd died, real young, and was, essentially, alone. What would it be like, to be alone forever? Were his parents alone? Or did they at least get to be with each other? Was there a Heaven at all? Or just… this. This Earth-bound hell where no one saw you, no one loved you, no one even knew you were there, screaming for attention, for anyone to turn around and notice you.

Eren swallowed hard and looked up from his hands, noticing how the ghost was trying to slowly inch away. "But, that's not a bad thing," he continued like he hadn't stopped, hands curling in the bed sheets before leaned forward boldly, almost nose to nose with the dead boy. See? Not afraid. So Armin could stop making that face, alright? "I know you like fiction," if all those books in that trunk belonged to him, "But I can bring you other things. Other books. History. And," what did smart people read? "Time Magazine? You don't have to hide from me, Armin. If I'm one of the only people who can see you, then that's an important responsibility. I'm not going to let you wander around like this. This… this was your home, wasn't it? You shouldn't be a stranger in your own home."

Blank, white eyes blinked slowly at him, and Eren wondered if he'd said something wrong. And then Armin smiled, and leaned his head to the side, his hair floating slowly down over his neck. "Thank you, Eren." He got up off Eren's bed and smoothed his hands over his shirt. "Well, I have disturbed you enough tonight. Please, sleep well."

"What about you?" Eren asked, reluctantly laying back down. "Do you sleep?"

"No," Armin shook his head. "But that's alright."

"No its not." Eren pointed to the book, still open where Armin had left it. "Go ahead. It's your favorite, right?"

Armin hesitated, and looked longingly over at Treasure Island. "But, will not the.." he paused, and gestured towards his body, glowing the dark of Eren's room.

"Nah." Eren pillowed his head on his hand, watching the ghost boy, move his hand over the top of the page. "It's actually kind of comforting. You're kind of like a night light, Armin."

"Well, then," Armin moved back to the bed, "May I at least recommend another blanket, Eren? You must be cold with my being so close."

Eren shrugged, but pulled the blanket that was folded on the end of his bed up over his shoulders. "Better?"

Armin nodded and returned to the book. "Good night, Eren."  
.

Eren didn't know what he expected… perhaps to wake up in the morning and find it had all been a very strange, very detailed dream. All the stress, and the caffeine, and the lack of sleep had combined to dream up the iridescent boy that called himself Armin.

The fact that Treasure Island was a full four chapters further in than when he went to bed meant nothing, nothing at all. It was early enough, so Eren pulled himself out of bed, pulled on a pair of socks because the floor was so damn cold, and wandered down to the kitchen where Levi was, getting ready to go to work.

"Welcome to the land of the living," Levi said dryly from the small kitchen table where he was reading the newspaper. The radio was playing quietly in the background, babbling on about the traffic or something. Eren thought it was stupid to having a dining room table AND a kitchen table, but Levi couldn't be convinced otherwise, so they had both. "You're mowing the grass today, Eren. I told you to do it yesterday."

Eren cringed and dropped into the empty seat at the table. "I meant to do it." That meant something, right? Levi didn't look impressed, regardless.

"Today," he repeated, and got up to refill his coffee cup. "I'm going to be late tonight. Department meeting. There's fish sticks in the freezer."

"Why can't you be normal and leave me money for pizza when you're going to be late?" Eren grumbled. Seriously? Fish sticks? Might as well get him one of those stupid frozen TV dinners for kids, with the penguin on the front and the nasty brownie that reminded him of eating play dough.

"Mow the lawn." Levi folded the newspaper neatly and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. "And I'll think about it for next time."

"It's one stupid strip of grass," Eren complained. "It's barely even big enough for a dog to take a crap on!"

"And make sure you don't stay inside all day," Levi continued on. "I don't want you watching tv for 8 hours straight. Try to do something productive, if you can manage that."

Why did Eren get up early again? Oh yeah. Because chances were, if he didn't get up before Levi left, he'd go all day until Levi got home without speaking to another person. God he was pathetic. "I'll read a book or something."

Levi snorted- was he laughing at him!?- and pat him on the head a little roughly. "Be good. Stay out of trouble."

Eren heard the door close, and leaned back in his chair, contemplating going back to sleep. With how little he'd been sleeping, it was probably a good idea. Go back to bed, sleep awhile more, get up in a few hours, eat lunch, mow the shitty lawn, and then waste time until the day was over. Sounded exciting.

The radio began cutting out into static, and Eren groaned. "What's wrong now?" He got up and began hitting the side of it, but the static just got worse until he finally gave up and turned it off in frustration. The kitchen seemed overly silent without the radio on, almost loud in absent echo. Eren shivered and turned around, almost walking right into the pale ghost standing behind him.

Eren screeched and reeled backwards, slamming his hip into the table. "Jesus CHRIST Armin! Ow!" Eren put his head over his heart, trying to calm its racing. "What the fuck were you thinking!? Sneaking up on me like that!"

Armin backed up, his hands pressed to his lips, a smiling shining through even as he tried to look apologetic. "Sorry," he murmured. "I just… wanted to see you again. I wanted to be sure that you could still see me." He paused, and looked around, distracted for a moment, before refocusing on Eren. "It is something I keep coming back to. Why can you see me?"

Not entirely comfortable, Eren shrugged, his shoulders tense, and wandered over to the refrigerator to get the milk. Might as well have breakfast because after that adrenaline jolt, no WAY he was going back to sleep. "Mikasa says she can see ghosts, because she saw her parents die," Ere said, head low so that Armin couldn't see his face. "Maybe it's something like that."

To his credit, Armin didn't ask those hard questions he knew EVERYONE wanted to ask as soon as they found out. He simply nodded, like death was a normal, natural state. And maybe it was to him. Afterall, he WAS dead.

"Mine are gone too."

Eren almost hit his head on the top of the refrigerator, straightening up too fast. "Really? H-how?"

"Hot Air Balloon accident," Armin remembered, looking off to the side, his eyebrows furrowed in memory, "I think it was, anyway." Right. Armin lived in a different time. With weird stuff like hot air balloons as viable means of travel. "I can't remember their faces anymore."

He looked so pained and wistful, Eren wished that there was something he could do to help. "What about the attic," the idea was only half formed, but it made sense. "There's tons of stuff up there from your house. Maybe you have some pictures." Photographs existed back then, right? He was never good at history! Didn't they take pictures during the Civil War? When was the Civil War?

Eren couldn't take Armin's hand, but he DID gesture about wildly after shoving the milk back into the refrigerator. "Come on!" Now that he'd MET the ghost in the attic, it didn't make him as nervous to think about going back up there. Nervous, because he wasn't scared! He wasn't scared of anything!

He didn't turn around to see if Armin was following him, but the cold pocket that seemed to announce Armin's presence stayed with him even as he took the stairs at a run.

"So, is the attic like your room?" Eren asked as he pushed the attic door open and began climbing the narrow stairs. "I mean, now." Did Armin even live in this house, when he was alive? Did he DIE in their house!? Wasn't that something you were supposed to disclose when you sold a place!? No wonder Levi got such a good price on the joint!

"My room?" Armin's disembodied voice echoed. Yeah still with him. "No. I don't particularly like the attic. But you don't get the luxury of choice, when you're dead."

Eren just grunted and began poking around at the older looking things that hadn't been dragged out to the trash yet in Levi's enthusiasm. Obviously, not the boxes of Christmas lights. But there were some brown paper-wrapped parcels against the wall with a thick layer of dust that looked promising. "What up here is yours?"

"I don't know." Armin drifted over to the trunk with the books. "This is mine. I can feel that."

"Well, how about this?" Eren held up an old photograph of two adults, a man and a woman for Armin to see. Their clothes were old and funny looking, mostly the woman's dress.

Armin looked over, a pained look on his face. "I don't know. It feels familiar, but I-"

"Maybe they're your parents, Armin." Eren couldn't help feeling a little jealous; Armin at least had pictures of his family. Even if they were long dead too.

"I don't know," Armin said helplessly, and Eren went back to digging through the other pictures wrapped in paper.

"What's- what's this?" Eren stared down at the picture that fell into his hands. It was smaller, and framed, but the face was all scratched out. "Who would do this?" There were more… smaller ones. Some of them had the man and woman in them, but one figure was consistently scratched out. A smaller figure. Male, from what he could see from the clothing. "Someone's been scratched out of all of these." Violently scratched out.

Eren shivered and looked over his shoulder, not surprised to find Armin's pale face right there, his body almost phasing through Eren's as he tried to get a better look. "What do you think?"

But Armin just shook his head helplessly. "I don't remember."

"Do you think it would help," Ere said slowly, "If I tried to find out what happened to you? Then maybe you could, I don't know, pass on?"

"Eren," Armin sighed, "I don't even have a last name to give you. How are you supposed to find anything?"

"I can try!" Eren insisted. He could… could… go to the library… or something. He frowned. Research wasn't really his thing. "I don't know what I can do, or if I can do anything, but I have to try."

"Eren." Armin shook his head, ghostly hair floating around his face. "That's really very kind of you, but its not worth it."

"So what?" Eren demanded. "You're just going to give up? Haunt this house forever, waiting for the Zombie Apocalypse when the world will finally end? If you don't fight, you can't win."

"I just do not want to waste your time," Armin objected. "I can't go with you. I can't leave this house. I can walk through every wall in this house but I cannot pass through even the outermost window. And until your father broke the seal on the attic door, I have not been downstairs in decades."

"He's not my- wait, seal?" Eren repeated. "What seal?"

Armin gave him a patient, if slightly suffering smile, and moved over to the door, pointing at a smudgy black circle near the top of the door. "There. This one is for me."

Eren frowned and moved closer. Ghosts was one thing… but this was something else. "There are others, aren't there?" he remembered what Mikasa had told him. Three. Armin was just one of them. "There's another… he walks?"

A small nod confirmed his suspicions. "Yes. He's not confined, because he's not as…. Concrete."

"Interesting choice of words," Eren muttered. Concrete. None of them were concrete. "What's his name? Is he from the same time as you? Did you know him when you were alive?"

Armin looked pained again. "I don't remember."

"Mikasa called him the Guardian," Eren said, trying to be helpful. "We can keep calling him that, if you like." Could they meet him? Now that Armin could go downstairs, could ghosts see each other? Maybe Armin could find the guardian, and make him stop walking near Eren's room at night. It was super creepy.

"Mikasa?" Armin asked.

"Neighbor girl." Eren paused and looked towards the window. "I think she can see you too. She might actually be able to help me figure out what happened to you. She seems to know a lot about your house." Armin didn't look convince. "At least let me try," Eren said. "At worst, I waste some time and learn how to use the library filing system."

"Eren," the ghost bit at his lip and looked around, anywhere but at him. "I really don't know. I don't want to get anyone involved."

"What's there to be involved in?" Eren protested. "She knows a lot about this stuff. If anyone can help, its her."

"Fine," Armin signed at last. "If that's what you want. But if anything starts being… odd, I want you to stop immediately."

"What? Why?" Eren demanded. "What kind of odd?"

Armin shook his head and went over to the window. "I don't remember. Something bad."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Shake dreams from your hair

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Armin was, as a rule, not afraid of what he couldn't touch or see. He'd been nursed on stories of mythological creatures, and the properties of copper ore. Logic and reason and legend and religion were all equally real and present in his mind. And, if really put to the question, he believed in science more than he did anything else.

But his little maid didn't believe in science. She was Irish, and had been born in quick succession a year after her brother to parents who worked very hard for little reward. But they were rarely unhappy. Armin's mother had mentioned by chance that they were leaving their young son behind while she and his father went to Europe, and the seamstress's daughter was a perfect fit for the tiny household. She was kind, and patient, and perfectly happy to teach Armin her native tongue so that they could chat back and forth while she learned how to manage a household.

Armin's father said that the Irish were some of the most superstitious people he'd ever had the joy of meeting. He could write a whole book on superstitions that were purely their own. It was because of their rich history, he said. Their religion and their history and their ancient legends were all tangled together in a knot that couldn't be pulled from each other. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. But she was Irish, and she was afraid.

After the incident with the kitchen, she hung large, ugly crucifixes in every room of the house. Armin complained once to his grandfather about the eye-sore that they were, but his grandfather was a kind man, and gently told him that she wasn't hurting anything, and to let her have her way. Armin did not argue, but he did not like the way they looked down at him, eyes rolled back in carved faces full of pain. He didn't see how it was comforting.

He found her saints far more interesting. Invoking Saint Anthony for lost things, and Saint Christopher for his parents' travels- it felt more like playing at alchemy or some kind of lost magical art than sitting stiffly on the hard pew in the cathedral, trying desperately not to sneeze from all the incense ever did.

So she hung her crosses and said her prayers and for a few months, everything seemed quiet. The weather cooled as summer turned into autumn, and Armin would walk in the evenings around his block, Antoinette at his side, licking his hand whenever he paused too long for her liking. An American Bulldog, Armin had loved her with a fierce devotion since she was a puppy, and she returned his love with companionship and loyalty. Antoinette never made much more than a peep her whole life, save the occasional warning huff to people passing by, that this was HER family, and she was there protecting them.

Then, in late October, things began going missing again. Antoinette, fearless as she was, flat out refused to enter the kitchen, planting her feet stubbornly and remaining unmoved even when the maid offered her a bit of this and that to try and coax her inside to sit at her feet as company while she worked. The crucifix in the hall on the second floor routinely was turned upside down; like all the magic was being poured out onto the carpet like sand through an hour glass.

The maid's fear seemed to be slowly infecting everyone. Armin even caught their Valet double checking the doors at night, turning the key twice over and pulling on it before he was satisfied.

"What do you believe?" Armin asked him, as he held the light for him to wash his face while the sound Latin prayers drifted down the hall from the maid's room.

"I don't really know myself," his Valet said softly, "What is the cause for strange happenings in this world. But I believe in love. I believe in loyalty. I believe in protecting those you care most about. I believe in duty- my duty to you and your family. It is what gives me purpose."

The next morning, there were thirteen dead crows on the front stoop- all their legs pointed towards the sky. Armin watched out the window, still dressed from sleep, as his servant quietly, and quickly swept them away before anyone else woke.  
.

"I've met him," Eren announced proudly to Mikasa, leaning all the way over the hedge to speak to her. "His name is Armin. He's been dead almost 100 years, I think." He didn't exactly get a date on him. But the date in the book suggested at least 100 years. "I want to find out how he died. Then maybe he can pass on." Or whatever ghosts did. Eren had a long list of horror movies on Netflix to watch; RESEARCH, if you wanted to know. "Do you want to help?"

"Why would I want to do that?" Mikasa asked, flipping the long edge of her scarf over her shoulder. Eren was happy to see her still wearing it even though he thought it was WAY too warm out for something like that. "He's not harming anyone, as far as I can tell. Besides, he's your project, not mine."

"Yeah, but, you seem to know a lot about this kind of stuff," Eren explained. He would have never known to go looking for ghosts in his house, or what he was looking at when he stumbled across one, if it hadn't been for her. She also already knew a lot about his house. "Come on, Mikasa," he begged, clasping his hands over hers. "You're really smart. I'd probably just mess it up on my own."

Mikasa smiled a little, pleased, and rocked back on her heels. "Maybe I'll help, if that's what you really want," she allowed, and Eren counted that as a win for him. "How is everything?" she asked, nodding towards his house, "Otherwise."

"What do you mean?" Eren twisted around to see if Armin was in one of the windows again. He wasn't. Eren shrugged. "The other one just walks around a bunch still, which I don't LIKE, but he's really not bothering me too much." Between Armin hanging out in his room, talking and then reading once Eren couldn't keep his eyes open anymore, the walking ghost didn't really wake Eren up as easily anymore.

"I mean him, Levi," Mikasa corrected. "Is everything alright? I heard yelling the other night."

Eren's face fell, and he let go of her hands to fold his arms across his chest. "As well as it can be, I guess," he grumbled. "I mean… we're here. His new job is here. He's not taking me back." Eventually, maybe, if he said it enough, he'd come to accept it. "And he can't bring my parents back."

"No," Mikasa agreed reluctantly. "No one can do that." She paused, and then leaned closer, her eyes dark and serious. "Was it his fault, Eren?"

Eren jerked back sharply, surprised at the cold steel in her eyes. "What?"

"Was it his fault?" she repeated; slowly and calmly. Like she was trying to coax answers from a reluctant child. "You can tell me. You can trust me, Eren."

Eren wanted to say yes. He'd shouted it at Levi enough. It's your fault, YOUR FAULT, you could have saved them! He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to block out the memory. "I've got to go," he said instead. "Be ready to go to the library in half an hour, Mikasa!" he called over his shoulder and he hurried into his house.  
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"I wasn't meant to be a scholar," Eren complained, throwing himself down on the couch. Mikasa caught the folder with the scanned microfilm they'd gathered from the library before it hit the ground and scattered everything out of order. "They can fix the machine, right?" Levi was going to have a COW if he had to fork out for a broken light-box, or whatever the hell that machine was that could read all the tiny little scanned newspaper pages.

"You might not want to go back for awhile," Mikasa said unhelpfully as she pulled out the first sheet. "House deed."

"Boring," Eren sighed. It had taken FOREVER to find the house in the old records, and then from there they'd had to scan mile after mile of newspaper, trying to find the correct dates they were looking for. At least, after they had the deed, they had a name. "Arlert." Eren snagged the paper from Mikasa and rolled over onto his back. "Purchased by Erich Arlert in 1855. Sold to James Frederickson in 1920. And so on- anything later than that isn't the right time period anyway."

At least, Eren hoped his hunch was right. They'd copied all the birth records they could find in the 'right time period' as Eren put it, after they'd found the house deed, using the date that the house was purchased and the date Armin had written in his book as a guide.

"Hey! That's right," Eren scanned over the deed and sat up. "We have a basement!" It was listed there in the deed. "Looks like it was an original part of the house." Unfinished, was what Levi said. What did that even mean? Dirt floor?

"Eren," Mikasa said slowly, "We're trying to find out more about Armin. Focus."

"But maybe he's IN the basement!" Wasn't that how these plots always went? The ghost hung around because his physical remains were still around!? "What if he was buried down there!" It was 100 years, ago, he'd be all bones now anyway. "What if he was MURDERED by his parents and buried under the floorboards!" There were pictures, in the attic…. A figure scratched out. What if that was Armin, and his parents had tried to erase all evidence of him, including his face!

"Eren," Mikasa leaned her head to the side, tapping her fingers on the paperwork she had spread before her to keep her place on the long list of hand-written names from local registries. So many people. So many lives. None of these people even existed anymore. "You're speculating. Armin's death is somewhere in these papers. We just have to find it. Stop making wild hares for yourself to chase."

Maybe… but people didn't become ghosts when they were happy, right? People who died peacefully didn't become ghosts. Eren hadn't been in the basement yet. And as far as he knew, neither had Levi. Probably too dirty for him to think about salvaging. Not like the attic. Levi had made noise about turning it into some kind of guest room after they'd watched a few episodes of House Hunters. Weirdo. "How many cemeteries are there around here? Should we start with the basement?"

"Eren," Mikasa said patiently. "Please take your mind off the basement. We're not going to every cemetery and looking at ever headstone to try and find him. We're going to start by looking through the obituaries in the newspapers we copied, in the likely years he died, given his current appearance."

"Uuugh!" Eren flopped over, face first, onto the couch. "I thought it would be more interesting than this." He stuck his hand down the back of the couch to pull out the TV changer. "Break time." He pressed the power button, but the screen came on fuzzy, crackling in a way that had Eren quickly turning it off and on again as his heart dropped to his stomach. "Levi is going to KILL me." It wasn't his fault though! Why was it broken!? It wasn't like it was new, but it shouldn't have just DIED like this! What was he supposed to do NOW when Levi was gone all day!?

"Eren." Eren looked up from considering what painful torture Levi was going to put him though for breaking his shit, and saw Mikasa pointing towards where they'd left the living room door open. There was a faint white-blue glow along the side of the door frame.

Armin. RIGHT! He'd fucked up the radio in the kitchen too! "Mikasa," Eren whispered loudly as the ghost leaned ever so slightly to peek in at them, "Can you see him?"

"Yes, Eren."

Good! "How well?" Maybe he was just a ball of light to Mikasa. Mist. Armin said people usually only saw mist. Though, Mikasa had always been very perceptive about the ghosts in his house.

"Eren-" Armin took a small step into the room, and cast a nervous glance at Mikasa.

Eren remembered what Armin said about people screaming and smiled in what he HOPED looked like a reassuring manner. "Don't worry," Eren told Armin, "She's the neighbor friend I was telling you about."

"Eren," Armin tried to start again, "She-"

"Hello," Mikasa intruded, her eyes wide and curious but unconcerned as she watched him. Eren was glad. They were probably the closest things he had to friends in this lousy town, and he was sure glad that Mikasa wasn't scared of him. "I'm Mikasa. I've been watching you for a long time. How nice to finally meet you."

"Armin," he offered back, a little shyly, dark blue spots appearing on his pale, silvery cheeks.

"We think we found your last name," Mikasa offered, holding up the paper once more, tempting him over. "And maybe, your father. Why don't you come sit with us, and we'll show you what we have?"

Armin hesitated a moment, looked at Eren, and finally made his way into the room, settling a few feet away from the two of them and drawing his knees up to his chest. "Alright," he said at last, looking at them expectantly. "What is it? What did you find?"

Eren grabbed the paper out of Mikasa's hands, and then when he realized that Armin couldn't take it, put it on the floor in front of him. "The deed to this house! And the person who owned it while you were alive." Saying it aloud, it didn't seem like much progress at all. But… it was probably important information, right?

"Nothing about how you died yet though," Mikasa said, and Armin shifted uncomfortably. "Don't worry, we'll find it. We still have a lot of newspaper to go through."

Eren leaned closer at the small nod Armin gave, his head down. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, its just… strange," Armin said quietly. "I haven't spoken to anyone in so long and now… the two of you, and trying to remember what happened… it's a lot to take in." His head shot up from his knees. "That is, I don't mean to sound ungrateful. It must have taken a lot of work to find all this."

"I did the work," Mikasa offered, and Eren scowled. "Eren just shouted out ideas and put things away in the wrong boxes."

"Mikasa!" He protested loudly. But… Armin was laughing. It was kind of weird and echo-y, but it was a laugh, and Eren decided that Mikasa could live. For now.

"Anyway," Mikasa put the papers back in order and stood, offering the folder to Eren. "Levi will return soon, and I should be getting back. It was nice to meet you finally, Armin."

"Go out the back door, thought the kitchen," Eren suggested. Just incase Levi came home while she was trying to leave.

Armin nodded and watched her go, staring long after she'd vanished. Eren tisked. "Have you never hung out with a girl before? Or was your family all, medieval about that kind of thing?" he asked, attempting to prod Armin in the side and shuddering when his hand went right through him, like being doused in cold water. Oh right. Ghost. "

"You really don't know your historical periods," Armin said with a smile. "No, that's not it. She's just… interesting. Mikasa… that's Japanese, isn't it?"

Eren shrugged. "I dunno. I haven't asked her."

"Regardless," Armin mused, and then turned. "Eren… you should always forgive the people who have wronged you."

Well THAT came out of nowhere. Eren frowned. "Some people don't deserve forgiveness."

"Revenge doesn't make it better," Armin insisted.

Eren scowled. For all of Armn's chatter when he showed up at night before Eren went to sleep, wanting to know this and that and holy SHIT, WWI had him fascinated, but not so much WWII, they'd never really talked about personal philosophies like this. He'd even go so far to say that Armin enjoyed listening to HIM talk. "Where is this even coming from?"

"Eren?"

Eren's head jerked up from the couch pillow. Levi was back. Mikasa left just in time! Armin scrambled to his feet and brushed off his crazy elaborate clothes like dust actually bothered ghosts. Maybe it was one of those weird living habits that transcended death that you did, just because. "I have to go," he said quickly. "Just… think about what I said, okay?"

Eren snorted and looked away. "Whatever."

"Eren-"

"Eren?" Levi called again, and Armin cast a nervous glance towards the doorway, but stubbornly didn't move.

"Promise me, Eren."

Eren threw his hands up in the air. Why was this so important? "Fine, sure whatever. I'll THINK about forgiveness before I ever bring my wrath down on someone. Happy now?"

Apparently, yes, he was. Because he smiled and turned quickly, side-stepping Levi as he walked through the door with a constipated look on his face. Armin turned for a moment in the doorway behind Levi, waved, and was gone.

"Eren!" Levi stood over him, glaring, his hands on his hips. "Didn't you hear me calling you?"

Eren shrugged and flopped back on the couch, feet dangling just off the cushions so Levi couldn't complain about feet on the furniture. Sometimes he felt like Levi had read a manual about keeping a pet, and just tried to apply everything to him. He was waiting for the day that Levi came after him with a spray bottle

"Who were you talking to?" Levi straightened and looked around suspiciously, like he expected someone to be hiding behind the curtains. And maybe he did.

Oh… uh, he must have heard Eren speaking to Armin. I was just talking to a ghost was probably a bad response. "It was the TV," Eren lied. "I just turned it off." Yeah, telling Levi he was talking to a dead kid would get him worse than foster care. And foster care had sucked pretty hard. "What's for dinner? I'm starving!"

"There were fish sticks in the freezer," Levi pointed out, removing his tie.

"I ate them all!" Eren protested with a frown. It wasn't like he had all the money in the world to go and get more food. That was KIND OF Levi's job… to feed him.

"The serving size is three," Levi arched an eyebrow.

"I was hungry." And bored. "Besides, who only eats three?" The grunt Levi gave him was probably some kind of agreement, so Eren decided to push his luck. He was getting tired of frozen shit for dinner. "Are you going to be hom-here, tomorrow?" Not that he _cared_, but he wanted to know! And if he was going to be late, then Mikasa wouldn't have to go running back home before Levi got in. Maybe she could even come over to look over the newspapers and they could order a pizza. Not that he really thought Levi would CARE that he had a… friend, over, when he wasn't home. He just might not approve that his friend was a girl without giving him some kind of weird and awkward talk that Eren really didn't want to hear from LEVI, and then go over to Mikasa's house and talk to her parents. Nope, much better to just avoid it all together.

"No," Levi said with a sigh, "I've got a late shift tomorrow. Actually, I'm going to send a friend of mine to watch you for the evening, since I'll be back after you should be in bed."

Eren blinked for a moment, confused. And then his eyes narrowed. "You're getting me a i_babysitter/i_?" Eren said in disgust.

Levi hummed in the back of his throat at pushed Eren's hair back out of his face, too rough to be affectionate and too gentle to be disciplinary, and nodded. "That's exactly what I'm doing," he said. "You're alone too much during the day Eren. I know it can't really be helped, with the move and school being out, but it's not healthy for you."

Eren threw his hands up in the air. "Sign me up for the YMCA or something," he wouldn't go anyway, but it would at least keep Levi feeling like he was doing his job and leave him alone, "But don't get me a BABYSITTER like I'm 6 or something!"

"Eren, do we have to be shouting already?" Levi asked with a sigh. "I just got home."

Eren snorted and was about to launch into an argument about how if they hadn't MOVED, then he'd have plenty of people to hang out with and this whole discussion would be unlikely, when he paused, and looked Levi over. His shirt was untucked on the right side, and his sleeves rolled up to the elbow- uneven- the right was shorter than the left. "What happened?" Eren asked with a frown, concern pinching his eyebrows together.

"Nothing," Levi insisted, "Just… a bad day at work." When Eren didn't say anything, he continued quietly, sensing that the fight had dissipated for the moment. "Will you make the salad while I start the chicken?"

"Fine." Eren gave himself a shake. Salad and chicken. That sounded… good. Levi made a killer chicken when cooked in garlic olive oil. "Go change," he added. It was as close to 'sorry' as Levi was getting from him. "I'll be in the kitchen."

Infact, Eren decided as he entered the kitchen, he'd even start getting the chicken for Levi! Show him how responsible he could be! Then Levi might let the whole babysitter thing drop. Eren put a pan on the stovetop for the chicken, and then grabbed a pot. If Eren set it out, Levi might make mac and cheese to go with their dinner.

Satisfied, Eren washed his hands quickly and faced the refrigerator. Alright, salad! It was one of the things that Levi tended to trust Eren with making completely by himself because really, who could fuck up a salad?

Eren opened the bag of lettuce slowly and looked towards the kitchen door. A bad day. He was used to 'bad day' at the office meaning rough stuff. When his dad used to have bad days at the office, it usually meant people died. Levi wasn't that much different. The day he first met Eren had been a 'bad bad' too. Hazards of the job. Eren shook his head violently. No, not going to think about it. They were going to make, and eat dinner, watch some tv so that Levi would relax, and then Eren was going to start looking over the newspapers. He should probably hide them up in his room before Levi saw them though. He'd stay up all night reading them too! He was going to find Armin. He couldn't help anyone living- but maybe he could help this guy who was already dead. Right? It wasn't like he'd erase any red in his ledger, but maybe… if Heaven existed between being stuck and just being dead… maybe Armin could tell his parents, if he saw them…

Something was burning.

The smell caught him by surprised, choking his breath and making his heart race. Eren whirled around, eyes widening at the flames on the stove. "H-how?" he whimpered, falling backwards, staring. It smelled BAD. Not like campfire and fireworks, but like electricity and tar. White hot and roaring in his ears, making it hard to breathe and his vision swim.

"Eren!"

Eren took in a deep breath and started coughing as he tried to look around. How did he get on the floor? Levi was in front of him, fire extinguisher in hand. He looked ANGRY. "What were you thinking?" he demanded. "You could have burned the whole house down!"

Burn- Eren looked at him with wide, startled eyes, and shook his head. He'd never do that! It wasn't his fault! Levi sighed and sank to his knees.

"Sorry, wrong use of words. Eren. Are you okay?" He still looked angry, a pinchedness in his face betraying his fatigue.

"I- I didn't turn it on!" Eren finally managed. "I just put the pan on the stove. I didn't turn it on!"

"Eren," Levi, put his hands on his shoulders, "Eren, it was all the way up on high."

"I didn't do it!" Eren cried hysterically. "I didn't do it! I didn't do it!"

"Okay, okay," Levi said quietly, and Eren bowed his head. He didn't turn it on. He didn't! He'd remember that! "You didn't do it," Levi continued softly, and Eren felt his throat try and close up. "Lets just order in for tonight. Okay? I'll call the electrician tomorrow to come take a look at it."

Eren dreamed of fire that night.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Like the Wind Changed Your Mind

Rating: PG13 for now

Chapter Summary: Eren meets his babysitter and learns more about Levi. Its a pretty good day. Until its not.

Cross Posted: on Tumblr under putyourright-armin and Archive of our own as Lenciaann

Warnings: Ghost story, demons, Eren swears a lot, supernatural violence

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The hall outside Armin's room was dark… pitch dark, so that not even the lamp he carried cast more than a sickly yellow glow. The floor board creaked with his first step, but he made himself take a slow and careful second, and then a third. Down the hall towards the water closet.

Armin set the lamp on the sink with a clatter that threatened to send oil and glass crashing to the floor, and looked at his reflection; pale and ill. Slowly, he stripped his shirt off over his head, wincing as the cotton stuck in a few places before he could tug it all the way off and drop it to the floor. Slowly, he turned, trying to see in the mirror, in the dim, light. Four deep scratches ran from his left shoulder and down his back, welling with blood.

He took the cloth from the rack where it hung on the wall, and dipped it into the cold water his Valet had left, and would change out in the morning. It made Armin shiver, and the water sounded so loud he thought surely someone would hear him as he wrung the cloth out as best he could. Gently, he touched one of the scratches with the damp cloth, and winced. "Ow," he whimpered, and touched the cloth to it again, trying to wipe up the blood.

He'd…. he'd been sleeping, and… and then something had pinched him. He'd rolled over, still half-dreaming, ignoring the slight discomfort for the warmth of the blankets. And then pain so sudden and hot, he'd bolted upright in his bed stifling a scream.

Armin glanced at the mirror again, checking to make sure he was actually getting the right places. Something dark moved across the mirror's reflection, just outside the door. Armin gasped and jerked his head back down, his shoulders shaking, bare and cold and wet as he heaved deep breaths that only made his chest ihurt/i. "There's nothing there," he whispered to himself. "There's nothing there. There's nothing there."

Eren woke with a start, choking on the memory of smoke. He looked around, disoriented and tangled in his blankets, until he saw the posters he'd tacked up on the wall. Right. New England. With Levi. Eren flopped back down on his bed, trying to get his breathing under control, staring at the ceiling. Even awake now, he still felt like he could smell it. Fuck. He didn't have to tell his grief counselor about this, did he?

He hated dreaming about it. It was almost worse than remembering. At least, when he was just remembering, he could try and think about something else; distract himself, start yelling, turn up music too loud, SOMETHING. He couldn't escape it in a dream. In dreams, there was just fire, and smoke, and he couldn't get out. He couldn't save anyone and he couldn't get out. There was no Saint Levi coming to rescue him.

Stop thinking about it.

Eren kicked his blankets off and hauled his body out of bed. Stop thinking about it. Maybe he'd go out for a run. Some people did that, didn't they? Woke up early to work out? Maybe if he ran hard enough, he could come home and sleep some more without dreams. He didn't exactly feel irested/i. Although the clock said it was already 10am, so he'd technically gotten plenty of sleep.

Maybe he'd just watch tv until his brain rotted out of his head instead. And then, once there was REALLY nothing good on, he'd use the $20 in his wallet to buy all the chips and candy he could carry home from the gas station a couple blocks away. That sounded a lot better than running around the block in circles.

Eren wandered slowly down the stairs, listening to the house creaking around him. Damnit, he forgot socks again before he left his room. He needed to ask Armin if it was normally so freaking cold, or if it was something that happened because he was there.

He passed the living room on his singular mission to obtain cereal, and then backtracked to the living room, staring in confusion.

There was a woman in his house. She was wearing brown slacks and a purple dress shirt, and was flipping lazily though the channels on the TV, a cup of coffee ON one of those ugly 'Real Heroes' coasters that Levi insisted on keeping around even when he didn't use them himself. One leg was crossed over her knee, bouncing a little now and then, and threatening each time to send the pen tucked up in her hair tumbling out.

She must have heard him, because she suddenly turned and smiled wide at him. "There you are!" she exclaimed, tossing the controller and launching herself to her feet. "I was wondering if you were going to sleep all day. Teenagers." She shook her head and smiled brightly. "I'm Hanji Zoe. I work with Levi."

OH. His babysitter. Eren frowned. "I didn't know you were coming over so early." He'd been expecting her more around the usual time Levi got home from work. Great.

Hanji shrugged and her pony tail bounced with the movement. "I had nothing better to do. Besides!" she put her hands on her hips and leaned in too close, "I've been telling Levi I want to meet you, and see his new place for WEEKS! He keeps putting me off, until now. Something about how I might scare you." She made a face and shook her head like 'I don't know where he gets these ideas,' and grinned. "So how do you like it? Did I do I good job?"

Realization came over Eren and his sleep-fuzzy brain slowly. "You're the friend," he realized. "The friend who told him about the job, and the house."

"That's me!" Hanji threw a fist in the air. "I've been trying to get him to move this way for AGES. I guess he just needed the right motivation. We've been friends forever, you know." She paused and put a finger to her cheek. "Maybe that's why he's been keeping me from you." She laughed, and Eren flinched back a step as she smacked her hand into her fist. "The DIRT I could give you on him! It must make him squirm to think about what I could be telling you today! But yes-" she whirled back around on Eren and drummed her fingers on her leg. "The house?"

"It's haunted," Eren blurted. He didn't know why. It just came out like verbal vomit. Eren held his breath, waiting for her to declare him crazy, or just plain stupid. He didn't know which one he was hoping for.

But Hanji just laughed delightedly. "Its New England, Eren. Everything is haunted."

Eren blinked. "Really?"

"Well," she amended, "Everything has history. Things are older here, on this coast. Towns founded in the 17th century, instead or the 18th or 19th with original buildings still around. Places with history are most often the ones thought to be haunted. Not just because of what happened there, but because people believed that there was a supernatural presence in their lives that could interact with them directly. People don't believe anymore, and so modern hauntings are less common. You can't come back as a ghost if you don't believe in them."

Ugh, history. Whatever, Eren didn't care. That didn't help Armin. "Uh hu," Eren said, and looked back towards the door.

"Are you hungry?"

Eren's head snapped back around. "What?" God he needed to wake up more.

Hanji smiled patiently and pat him on the head like she'd known him all his life instead of about…. Five minutes. "Are you hungry? I thought I'd take you out to breakfast. Or, almost lunch, given the time. Levi isn't exactly a master chef, as far as I remember."

Eren thought about that $20 he had, and wondered if the largest steak omelet money could buy was better than the equivalent of candy and chips. Maybe she'd buy it for him? She WAS an adult, with a job, and stuff. "Yeah," he said, giving his head a little shake. "Yeah, okay, I'm hungry. That sounds good."

Hanji folded her arms across her chest and looked him over, amused. "Clothes?" she suggested with a raised eyebrow, and Eren felt his cheeks flush traitorously.

"Well don't come into someone else's home without warning and expect them to be dressed!" he did NOT tug self-consciously at his t-shirt while trying to remember which boxers he's slept in without looking. He sure hoped it wasn't an embarrassing one. "I'll be right back. Don't touch anything."

She actually folded her hands behind her back and rocked back and forth on her heels. Eren had a feeling she heard that warning a lot. "I'll be right back," he added again for good measure, and hurried out of the room. Her laughter still followed him up the stairs.

Armin was sitting on his bed when he opened the door, huddled in the corner closest to Eren's pillow. The sunlight coming through the curtains cut through him and made him almost look invisible from certain angles, disappearing in and out of focus depending on where Eren stood. He looked tousled, his hair going in all directions like he'd fallen though the wall and scrambled up onto the bed like it was a safe haven…. Like playing 'hot lava' with the floor and furniture like when Eren was a kid.

"You're around early," Eren said in surprise. Armin had only once still been in Eren's room when he woke up, and that had mostly been on accident; Armin had been finishing a chapter and Eren had woken up earlier than usual.

"Yes, I," Armin hesitated, and then shook his head "Something doesn't feel right."

Ahh, Eren had watched movies that went something like this. Something about ghosts being territorial when new people came into their space. "There's a new person around," he explained, stripping his t-shirt off over his head and at least trying to throw it in the vague direction of the laundry basket Levi insisted he have. Eren had tired rebelling against it, but had quickly learned that Levi would ONLY do his laundry for him IF it was in the basket. Eren had caved. "Levi let her in- they work together. No need to worry about her."

"No, Eren, that's no-"

"Are you going to be okay, home all alone today?" Eren hadn't really thought about it but… what did Armin do all day, when there was no one home? When Eren went to school in the fall, and Levi was at work, the house was going to be empty all day. Did he get lonely? When the house stood empty for years, when he was stuck up in the attic with only dusty boxes and spiders for company, did he sometimes forget he even existed? Just staring into space, at the same knot on the wall while time moved around him? "We can stay here, if you'd like?" Cereal was…. Fine. If Armin needed him to stay, it would be more than fine.

Armin relaxed, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders, and gave him a smile somewhere between amused and disbelieving. "No, Eren, go have your breakfast. We'll talk when you return, alright?"

Eren didn't necessarily believe it was okay, and hesitated as he sat on the bed to pull on his socks. "I wish you could come with us." It wasn't… it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Armin was stuck in the house…. That he couldn't even go out into the yard for some fresh air! He bet… he bet Armin would love the world now. Video games, and and… hot running water, and pizza- PIZZA! Had Armin never had pizza!?

His stomach gave the loud growl at the thought of food. Armin heard and grinned. "Go," he said, laying down and kind of hovering over Eren's pillow. "You can come back and tell me all about it."

It seemed a poor consolation prize, but Eren nodded and took the steps back downstairs two at a time. Hopefully he hadn't kept Hanji waiting so long that she changed her mind!

The place she took him to was some little hole in the wall kind of café- the dishes didn't match in color or size, the coffee mugs looked like they were an odd assortment picked up from GoodWill, and there were paintings done by local artists up on the wall for sale. But there were fresh flowers on the mismatched vases on the tables, and Hanji let him order coffee without batting an eye, so Eren thought it was pretty cool. Levi would probably hate it. That thought made Eren like it even more.

The place was nearly empty, being between meals; an old man read his newspaper in the corner by the window while eating eggs hollandaise, and a boring looking suit transformed into a normal guy when the waitress with bright red lipstick around put a stack of pancakes in front of him.

"So, Eren," Hanji tapped her spoon lazily against her coffee mug as their menus were taken away by their waitress 'call me Lola'. "Tell me about yourself. Levi has surprisingly little to say, for a guy who suddenly takes in a teenaged kid with no family to speak of." Eren frowned. "Sorry, was that insensitive?" she asked, smile never fading. "You should hear the things I ask my cadavers."

"C-cadavers?" Eren choked. "You work with dead people? I thought you worked with Levi!"

She laughed at that. "Dead people, Levi," was that a joke? "I'm a forensic scientist, Eren," Hanji explained, "Levi and I work in the same precinct. He brings me puzzles, and yes, sometimes dead puzzles that don't smell particularly good, and I do my best to solve them for him, so that he can put the puzzle-maker behind bars."

That was the stupidest description of anyone's job that Eren had ever heard. "I'm not ten," Eren scowled. "You don't have to talk to me like I'm a baby. There are some shitty people in the world, I know, I get it." Jail was too good for a lot of them.

"Yes, I know," Hanji said, her face serious for a moment, "Levi has told me all about how he came by you, Eren. Barely a word about who you are- he didn't even give me a hair color! Just that he was taking you in. I was the first person he called, you know. It must have been well past midnight when he called- time change-" she waved her hand like she was brushing the idea off, "He never remembers the time change. I about tore his head off the time he tried to call me at 3am." She paused. "Where was I?"

"He called you?" Eren supplied, lifting his empty coffee cup towards Lola when she walked by. More. He wasn't awake enough for this conversation, but… he was curious. "What did he say about me?" He and Levi didn't fight the WHOLE time- but what was he saying about Eren to his friends? Did he complain about him? Did he bitch about how Eren kept asking for a new laptop like an ungrateful brat? Did he call were names and laugh about him, and regret fostering him? He made the coffee in Eren's stomach churn nauseously.

"Ahh," Hanji smiled. "He called me, and said," and she took off her glasses and furrowed her brow, "'Hanji, there's this kid I met on a call a few weeks ago. He just lost everything. His parents, his home, all this belongings, and now they've put him in Foster Care. He doesn't deserve this.'"

"He kept tabs on me?" Eren didn't know that. He just knew that one day, Levi showed up at the house to speak to him. It had been an offer Eren couldn't refuse, really. Foster Care sucked, and anything had to be better, right? Three days later and a good dozen interviews with case workers, Eren was leaving with him for that tiny apartment across town. Far enough away from school that Levi had to drive him every morning, and pick him up every afternoon, except for the days that Eren skipped and walked himself back to the apartment because he just couldn't face another day of the whispers and pitying looks from his teachers.

"Of course he did." Hanji pushed her glasses back on her face, ponytail swinging. "Its not exactly ieasy/i to get emergency care of a foster kid, even when you ARE related. Just about everyone he knew got called to be a character witness. The fact that you're older helped- even in foster care, everyone wants babies." She reached out and gently squeezed Eren's wrist.

"Levi was a Foster Kid too. Didn't he tell you that?" Eren shook his head mutely. "Well, I'm not entirely surprised. He doesn't like to talk about it. He used to spend every minute he could at my house," Hanji remembered. "My mom liked to say that she'd adopted him in her heart. She stuffed the pockets of his jacket with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches whenever he came over, just incase he wasn't eating enough at home."

"I didn't know," Eren said quietly. He couldn't imagine it.

Hanji folder her hands around her coffee cup, turning it slowly around and around like perhaps she was reading all the quotes it had written on it. "I know you're not happy to be here, Eren. God knows I know. I knew as soon as he walked in on his first day, and there was this little winkle above his right eyebrow." She reached over and poked Eren in the same place. "It will get better, I promise. He's trying- and making it up as he goes. It just takes time. And I know, for teenagers, a year seems like a lifetime."

Eren was quiet for a moment, slowly adding sugar packets into his coffee. "Its not that I'm not grateful," he finally said with a deep breath. "I am." He had his own room, his own things, and Levi's rules really could be a lot worse and restrictive. Eren was generally trusted to take care of himself, instead of being babied. "But he's not my dad." Much to Eren's horror, he felt his eyes begin to well with tears, and he lenched his eyes and first tight against them. "They're gone. And all I want in the world is to have them back. He promised me… that night," wrapping a blanket from the paramedics around his shoulders while the flames roared in his ears, "He promised it was going to be okay. But its not. Its not okay!"

"Eren-"

"I wish I'd died too!" Eren sucked in a deep breath, his heart racing and his knuckles white as a clenched the handle of his cup. "I should have died too. He got me out. Why couldn't they have gotten them out too? Why only me?"

Eren opened his eyes abruptly when he felt Hanji's hand on his shoulder. "He said to me," she continued softly, "'I saw him, though the window. He was fighting so hard, I tried to find the fire chief to let him know, but there was no time, and the blaze was out of control. By the time they could have organized to send someone in, it would have been too late. I saw the opportunity, and I took it. I went in myself and dragged him out. Got the dressing down of my LIFE for that stunt, but he lived. He's alive, Hanji, because of me. And he's alone.'"

"God damn Saint Levi," Eren whispered, and scrubbed at the tear that rolled down his cheek. He was NOT doing this.

"He's not trying to replace your Dad, Eren," Hanji's voice was soft, and Eren had to bow his head a little to hear her. "But families come in all shapes and sizes, and relationships. Its who we love, and protect, and fight for. I probably haven't seen the asshole in a good four years, but he's still my family. When the position opened up here, I called him right away. He only bitched a LITTLE about being woken up." She smiled and pulled back. "Oh look! Here's breakfast! Are you really going to be able to eat all that?"

Eren looked down at the plate that Lola slid in front of him, glad for the distraction. It was a huge omelet, stuffed with steak, green peppers and cheese with a heaping side of salsa, sour cream, and guacamole. There was a side of hash browns tucked alongside it, barely hanging onto to the plate for dear life, and a couple slices of oranges for color. Eren looked back up at Hanji. "Yes." Obviously.

"Kids," Hanji said wistfully. Though Eren didn't know what she was complaining about… her stack of pancakes was five high with a side of fruit that didn't look like it came out of a can like most places.

They ate companionly while Hanji told him about her adventures in medical school, punctuating her stories with jabs of her fork until she accidently stabbed the table, but it was alright and made Eren laugh nervously, but honestly.

He was practically falling asleep in her car as they drove home, his stomach full and heavy. The radio was playing on low, something popular and nonsensical. Eren couldn't remember feeling so good in awhile.

The car started slowing down as they approached the house, waking him up a little, and then stopped, a full two houses away. Hanji's fingers flexed and drummed once on the steering wheel. "Stay in the car, Eren."

Eren blinked rapidly. What? "Hanji?"

"STAY," she repeated, opening the car door and pulling a hand gun out of her purse. Right. Forensics or not, she was still a cop.

Eren tried to get up and was jerked back down by his seatbelt. 'Hanji, what's wrong." What was going on?

"Stay in the car, Eren!" she shouted over her shoulder.

Like HELL! Eren threw off his seat belt and scrambled out, jogging after Hanji. The door to his house stood wide open. Eren felt like throwing up. His house! All their meager belongings, everything they'd carted across the country to this stupid city. The new start that Levi had gambled everything on.

"Fuck, you're stubborn," Hanji growled as he came up alongside her. "STAY next to me or I will handcuff you to your own mailbox. Can you do that?" Eren nodded and stepped carefully after Hanji into the house. Every step seemed to echo as they slowly made their way down the hall. Shoes in the house, Eren thought distantly. Levi is going to be so pissed.

Every door they passed was open almost to the breaking point of the wood. The living room, the dining room, the linen closet. They walked into the kitchen, and even the back door was open. Hanji closed it securely, and locked it. "Upstairs," she said, "Come on."

The doors upstairs were open too, and it was only because Hanji insisted that Eren didn't stop at his room to check all his meager possessions. As much as he hated that laptop, he didn't want to lose it.

"Attic is all we have left," Hanji said. Eren held his breath as they made their way to the sloping stairs, expecting to find some robber in a ski mask with a chainsaw waiting for them with murderous intent!

But it was empty too.

"Well," Hanji clicked the safety on her gun and tucked it into her waistband. "If someone was here, they've gone. Lets see if anything is missing." She whipped out her cell phone and pressed a few quick buttons as she made her way back towards the door. Eren didn't follow. There was a faint, blue glow in the corner of the attic near where he'd pushed Armin's trunk of books. Armin! He'd forgotten- damnit, he should never have left! Cereal would have been FINE!

"Levi?" Eren heard Hanji say, "No, I didn't poison him, I took him OUT for breakfast. Look, there's been a break in."

Armin. He'd been home all alone during the break in! Had someone else seen him? Did someone hurt him? Could you hurt ghosts? Eren inched away from the door after checking to make sure Hanji wasn't coming back for him

"Armin?" Eren whispered. "Armin, is that you?"

"Eren," his voice was wispy and thin. Scared. "Eren."

"Armin," Eren leaned over the top of the chest to see the ghost huddling in the furthest corner. He wished he could reach out and comfort him…. But his hands would only pass right through him. He still tried his best though, and offered him a smile that he hoped looked reassuring. "Armin its okay. Someone got into the house, but they're gone. Its okay."

"No Eren." Armin lifted his head, and Eren could see dark blue tears streaking down his silver cheeks. "Nothing got in." He looked around fearfully, and then leaned forward, his fingertips on the lid of the chest and pushed himself up. "Something got out."


End file.
